Phoenix Wright: Disgraced Attorney
by Sonowa
Summary: After losing his badge all those years ago, Phoenix Wright engages in a four-case-long quest to regain his former glory, and his former title. But with a stern adviser, a clueless judge, and a prosecutor who knows all of Wright's tactics, it'll be his toughest challenge yet.


**Author's Note: I own nothing in the Ace Attorney series, as is custom to write before these stories.**

**The story itself should be taken as if it were its own game. Therefore, original characters will be introduced, though several characters from the games themselves will appear as well.**

**Text written in italics represents Phoenix Wright's thoughts, and underlined text represents information in the Court Record and witness testimony.**

The bell gave its final ring as the referee finished counting up to ten. The champion had finally been dethroned.

He was the winner. He defied the odds, he defied the analysts, and he proved to the whole world that he could box with the best of them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are proud to announce the new champion of the World Video Boxing Association... Mr. Lemmy Attem!"

Lemmy raised a gloved hand, his trophy held tightly. The dethroned champion looked up in disgust, but eventually gave a few claps.

Little did either boxer know that the very trophy that divided them...

Would tie them both into my first case in the Readmissions Test.

* * *

I had two rules in mind when I entered the familiar courtroom lobby. Number one, no Magatama. If I were to prove that I deserve my position, I can't use any underhanded tricks.

Number two, I would not wear my suit until I got my position back. I'm not a defense attorney now, after all; I'm just a guy who wants to be one again.

My name is Phoenix Wright. I was a defense attorney, and now I'm about to begin my journey back to that position.

"Ah, so you must be Mr. Wright!" a gruff voice interrupted me as I entered.

The man who spoke had a very Grossberg feel to him. While his appearance was that of a professional (slight black hair, a wispy mustache, square-shaped glasses, extremely thick eyebrows, and a black suit), he seemed to have an aura of someone who no longer knew what he was doing.

"I am. And who might you be?" I asked, repositioning my hat. I was still in my outfit from my piano-playing days.

"The name's Vladimir Courtcase, sir," the man greeted, handing me a small business card. "In accordance with the Readmissions Test, I've been assigned to be your adviser."

I nodded. To be re-accepted, a process known as the Readmissions Test had to be taken. It wasn't common, but among attorneys, I like to think that I'm not too common myself.

"What does your title mean again?" I said.

"Oh, this and that, my boy. Mainly I'm tasked with handing you the Court Record for this case, and assistance for the tougher times ahead."

With that, he produced a manila folder from a pocket and handed it to me. I was more than glad to accept it after all these years.

"I've taken the liberty of putting any evidence regarding the case inside, Mr. Wright," Courtcase said, adjusting his glasses. "Necessary profiles have also been added."

Temporary Attorney's Badge: One of my possessions. Proof that I'm taking the Readmissions Test. Noteworthy for its square shape compared to the standard circle.

Maya's Magatama: Currently in Kurain Village. A mystical object that allows the user to see through a person's lies. I want to pass the test without it, so I sent it back.

Phoenix Wright: Male, age 33. Me. A former defense attorney of three years. I'm taking the Readmissions Test to get my job back.

Vladimir Courtcase: Male, age 42. An older defense attorney that the court hired as my assistant.

Lemmy Attem: Male, age 27. Newly crowned champion of the World Video Boxing Association.

Ringo Syde: Male, deceased. The victim. Former champion of the World Video Boxing Association.

After I had finished sorting through the folder, the courthouse doors opened once again. A tall young man with black hair and a bandage on his chin entered, wearing what appeared to be a grey jogging suit. His blue boxing gloves were still on.

"Mr. Attem?" I asked. The man nodded.

"I'm Phoenix Wright. I'll be defending you in court today," I said, holding out my hand to shake.

"Ay, I know you. Youse the one that got the boot, isn't you?" Attem grumbled, his arms crossed. "How should I trust youse to get me outta the joint?"

I smirked. "If you didn't do the crime, then it should be very easy to get you out."

"I wouldn't be so quick to rush to that conclusion, my boy," Courtcase said. "I've heard that they've gotten quite the prosecutor for this case."

"Ay, and even if they didn't, he'd just get hisself into a jam, wouldn't youse?" Attem asked, prodding me with a glove.

_I can't tell if he's been watching too many boxing movies, or too few._

Fortunately for me, the guard called myself, Courtcase, and Attem into the court. I was about to restart my journey.

* * *

The gavel hitting the judge's stand is a sound that can either mean victory or defeat in a courtroom. But at the beginning, it simply means that the ever-murmuring crowds will be quiet so the trial can commence.

"Court is now in session for the trial of Lemmy Attem," the judge stated. He hadn't changed a bit, it seemed.

"The defense is ready, Your Honor," I said, hands firmly tucked in my jacket's pockets.

"The prosecution is ready, Your Honor," a high and very familiar voice replied from opposite the courtroom.

_Oh no._

Winston Payne's cheeky grin spread across his face as he stared at me.

Winston Payne: Male, age 61. A feeble prosecutor labeled the "Rookie Killer." While quite obnoxious, he is not a threat in the courtroom.

"It's been too long, Mr. Wright," Payne greeted, his hand tapping with his forehead. "I hope that you are prepared to lose this time, because I came pre-"

"That will be all, Mr. Payne," I said. "I've seen your performances too many times to take you seriously."

"Ahem."

I stared upwards. The judge stared downwards. He blinked first.

"Mr. Wright, I hope you understand that this does not happen very often. The Readmissions Test has not been given since before I arrived here, and to my knowledge, it has never been successfully completed. You have been treading on thin ice since before you entered, and I hope you choose to take this seriously."

"Of course. I apologize, Your Honor."

The judge cleared this throat once again. "Now then, the court should know that the defense is undergoing a procedure known as the Readmissions Test. If the defense is unable to successfully defend four cases in a row, he shall fail, and will not be allowed to take the test again. If he passes, he will be granted all privileges and rights before they were stripped from him.

"Furthermore, due to the defense's impacts on the trial system as of late, we will not be using the new Jurist System, as we fear that it will cause a bias towards him thanks to his creation of the system.

"Now then, Mr. Payne, please give me your opening statement."

_Why, this doesn't seem overly against me at all, now does it?_

"Certainly, Your Honor," Payne started, adjusting his yellow suit. "Last night, at approximately ten PM, the former champion of the World Video Boxing Association, Ringo Syde, was murdered by the newly crowned champion, Lemmy Attem. Evidence and testimony will be provided to prove this point."

"Thank you, Mr. Payne," the judge said. "Before you call your first witness, is there anything you would care to submit to the court?"

Payne tapped his forehead again. "We have here the autopsy report. Mr. Syde was murdered by being bludgeoned by a heavy object, at about ten PM on June 6."

"Why... that was just yesterday!" the judge cried out. He was as easy to surprise as ever, it seemed.

"Correct, Your Honor. We believe that the murder was caused due to Mr. Syde's losing of the crown to the defendant in yesterday's boxing match."

The judge gave a nod. "The court accepts the report as evidence."

Autopsy Report: Ringo Syde's body was found in his locker room, his head caved in after bludgeoning. The murder occurred at roughly 10:00 PM.

"And I suppose that you've already found the weapon, Mr. Payne?" I asked.

Payne's grin widened. "In fact, we have, Mr. Wright. Take a look at this."

From behind his stand, Payne produced a large golden trophy, with the letters "W.V.B.A." engraved on it. What really attracted my attention, however, was the large red stain on the trophy's base.

"Your Honor, I present the trophy handed to Lemmy Attem after winning his match. Forensics have already given a thorough search, and have found two bits of additional information.

"First, that the blood stained on the base belongs to Mr. Syde. Second, and more importantly, that Mr. Attem's fingerprints have been found on the trophy."

"Hold it!" I yelled. "Wouldn't Mr. Attem still be wearing his boxing gloves?"

"Don't count on that to help you out, Mr. Wright," Payne responded with a sneer. "Mr. Attem clearly removed his gloves before commiting the crime. And even if he were wearing gloves, wouldn't his prints be on those, as well?"

I stared Payne down for a few moments before realizing that his argument couldn't be broken at the moment.

Boxing Trophy: Trophy for the World Video Boxing Association champion. Has Ringo Syde's blood on it, and Lemmy Attem's fingerprints.

"Well, this certainly seems like an open-and-shut case, now doesn't it?" the judge asked. "Mr. Wright, it fears that your comeback will be over before it even started. A shame, really."

"Not so fast, Your Honor," I replied. "We haven't had a single bit of testimony yet."

"And I don't think you should be expecting any!" Payne responded. I flinched; his nasal voice was even worse when he got excited. "We have incriminating evidence that it was Mr. Attem that did the deed. Who could we possibly need to hear a testimony from?"

_Bingo._

"From Mr. Attem himself, of course," I said with a shrug. "It's only fair for the defendant to give his side of the story."

"His side of the story will be nothing but lies!" Payne shrieked. "Your Honor, you can't call up the defendant for testimony."

"Now, Mr. Payne," the judge said with a surprising amount of seriousness. "While the evidence is very decisive, I'm afraid that I can not give a proper verdict without decisive testimony as well."

"But... but..."

"No buts, Mr. Payne. Mr. Attem, would you please take the stand?"

As Lemmy moseyed his way up to the stand, Courtcase gave me a quick jab in the side.

"I don't know what you're doing, my boy, but I don't like it! You're digging yourself into a hole that you won't be getting out of easily at this rate."

"Without testimony, I'll be dead in the water. Even if it's nothing more than a pack of lies, I'll at least have gone down fighting."

"Some of us would rather maintain our dignity than go down in flames."

"Yeah? Well, guess I'm not one of 'em."

Courtcase scoffed as Lemmy Attem slowly approached the stand. From the looks of it, the only person who didn't want him up there less was Payne.

"Witness... please state your name and occupation for the court," Payne grumbled, tapping his forehead with more frustration than I imagined he could have.

"Name's Lemmy Attem. Newly crowned champ of da World Video Boxing Association."

"Mr. Attem, please testify to the court about your actions at ten PM last evening."

"Last evening?" Attem repeated, raising an eyebrow and exposing a cut on his eyelid. "Da hell ya need that for?"

"Witness, please watch your language in my courtroom," the judge warned.

_And as always, he's not on my side. I really should have expected as much._

"All right, here goes..."

Witness Testimony: Last Night

"Last night I was at the boxin' arena for the title match.

"It was me against that has-been champ, Ringo Syde.

"Match lasted all fifteen rounds, but I knocked him out.

"After that, I got my trophy and went home for a snooze."

The judge nodded. "Understandable. You may cross-examine the witness, Mr. Wright."

"Gladly, Your Honor," I responded with a nod.

"Ah, Mr. Wright. Would you care for a brief catch-up on how to-"

"No, Mr. Courtcase, I'll be fine."

"Are you su-"

"_Yes_, Mr. Courtcase."

"...Very well. Don't say I didn't offer my advice, however!"

Cross Examination: Last Night

"Last night I was at the boxin' arena for the title match.

"It was me against that has-been champ, Ringo Syde."

"Hold it!" I yelled. "Is this 'has-been' in the literal or rhetorical sense?"

"Objection!" Payne shouted back. "The defense is wasting the court's time."

"Hey, let's not get crazy," Attem muttered. "I meant as in I beat him up, all right? That's all I meant."

"He really isn't much for words, to be frank," Courtcase added.

_Great. Thanks for the support._

"Match lasted all fifteen rounds, but I knocked him out."

"Hold it. How long was the actual match?"

"How long?" Attem repeated with another cock of the eyebrow. "Well, lessee here. Fifteen rounds, at five minutes each, is... uh..."

"Seventy-five."

"Hey, ya didn't let me finish!"

"Hmmm... and were there breaks between these rounds?" the judge asked.

"Yeh, I'd say about a minute."

"Rounding up, that'd be around ninety minutes," Payne concluded.

"Would you mind adding this to your testimony, Mr. Attem?" I asked.

"Yeh, sure."

"The match lasted fifteen rounds, and was about ninety minutes long."

"_Objection!_"

_Man, does it feel good to say that again!_

Attem grumbled, his boxing gloves tapping the stand impatiently. "Youse sayin' you've got a problem with my testimony?"

"No, not at all," I explained. "In fact, you've managed to prove your innocence.

"Let's look back at the autopsy report, shall we? The time of death is reported here as ten PM. But if Mr. Attem's word is to be believed, the match did not end until 9:30.

"Mr. Attem could not have killed Mr. Syde at this time, _because they were still in the boxing ring!_"

Payne visibly shook with frustration as Attem gave a small bit of applause from the stand.

"Hey, there ya go. I'll be a free man in no time, huh!"

"I wouldn't say that," Payne responded. "Watch your language, Mr. Wright; the report clearly states that Mr. Syde was murdered _around_ ten. After the awards ceremony, Mr. Attem could have taken his newly-won trophy and killed Mr. Syde then."

I nodded.

"So you've proven nothing!"

I nodded again.

"...Aren't you just a little bit peeved?"

"...Ah, you were talking. My apologies, Mr. Payne, I was thinking about something else."

The prosecutor's face turned red with anger.

_I'm not sure if I feel guilty, or really, really elated that I managed to do that._

"Mr. Attem, it seems that we will require some more testimony from you, assuming the defense would like to keep up this line of questioning," the judge turned to me.

"I do, Your Honor."

Back to Lemmy.

"Mr. Attem, would you mind testifying about the trophy itself?"

Attem's rose both eyebrows now. Sure enough, another scar was underneath his other eyelid.

"Da trophy? What good would that do?"

"That trophy is what killed Mr. Syde. If you truly were the perpetrator, you'd know it better than anyone else."

Attem gave a small nod. "Yeh... I guess so."

The judge gave a nod of his own. "Mr. Attem, please testify about the looks of your trophy."

Witness Testimony: The Boxing Trophy

"Well, I can't say much... I mean, it's a trophy.

"It's big. It's gold. It's got a few lettas on it.

"...What else do ya want me to say?"

Payne chortled. "It appears that your bluff has been called, Mr. Wright. There's no way you'll prove anything with that feeble testimony."

_As much as I hate to admit it, you may be right, Payne._

"Well, get on with it, boy," Courtcase muttered. "You've got the testimony, now make something out of it!"

"Something tells me, Vladimir, that you can't make anything out of this," I replied.

"Nonsense. You've made it fully known that you know how to cross-examine, and even the vaguest of statements have led to new discoveries. Now get out there, and show me the Phoenix Wright I've heard so much about."

I nodded.

"But call me Vladimir again, and you're on your own."

"Understood, Mr. Courtcase."

Cross-Examination: The Boxing Trophy

"Well, I can't say much... I mean, it's a trophy.

"It's big. It's gold. It's got a few lettas on it."

"Hold it. Could you tell us what letters are on the trophy?"

Payne smacked his forehead. "What kind of a question is that, Mr. Wright?"

I raised an eyebrow myself. "I don't understand your claim, Mr. Payne."

"I think he means that it'd just say "W.V.B.A." on it," Attem responded. "And he's right, too."

Sweat built up around the rim of my hat. "Let's... just continue with the testimony, shall we?"

"...What else do ya want me to say?"

"Hold it!" I yelled.

_All right, it's time to bluff. The question is, what can be asked about the trophy that can open this case back up?_

I glanced through the evidence again before my eyes lit up.

"Mr. Attem, please testify as to where the trophy is right now."

Lemmy shot me a look, but shrugged it off.

"Well, if ya say so..."

"Da trophy is sittin' pretty in a glass case."

"Objection!"

The judge blinked momentarily. "You never cease to make a useful alarm clock, Mr. Wright."

_Hey, whatever gets me on his good side._

"Mr. Attem, you have testified to the court that your trophy is now in a case, correct?" I asked.

"Dat's what I said."

"Well, I'm afraid that that can't be possible, as Mr. Payne has presented the trophy itself as evidence, going so far as to bring the trophy itself."

With a furious grunt, Lemmy turned to Payne, boxing gloves smashing into each other.

"Youse got my trophy, little man?" the champion uttered, his breath fogging up Payne's glasses.

"Bailiff, put Mr. Attem under restrained control, and send a party to his home to check if the trophy is there. Court will be adjourned for a fifteen-minute recess while this takes place!" the judge finished with a swing of his gavel.

As a large man pulled back Lemmy, I sighed.

"You seem to be doing fairly well, Mr. Wright. Looks like you're right back into the swing of things," Courtcase remarked with a twitch of his large eyebrows. "Of course, you do realize that this is quite the gamble you're undergoing right now."

I managed a slight grin. "Believe me, Mr. Courtcase, I know all about gambles."

Of course, what I didn't know is if this one would pay off...

* * *

**Author's Note: I thank you for reading.**


End file.
